Next week, I’m facing two big fears of mine: flying and
public speaking. To say that I’ve dreading this week would be an
understatement. I’ve wished with every fiber of my being that this trip would
be canceled, that some work issue would pop up and our trip would be canceled.
Unfortunately, the government gods didn’t hear my plea. I will be traveling to
Los Angeles to conduct a 3-day training seminar with two other work colleagues.
I’m fairly intimated because I will be teaching our business policies to a
bunch of firefighters who I’m sure could care less. And, to be honest, I’m not
as familiar with the material as I’d like to be.
Since I started this job in
January, I know enough to get me in trouble but that’s about it. I don’t proclaim
to be the authority on this material but I’m expected to know my presentation
parts well enough. I used to get really bad anxiety attacks when I’d have to do
any kind of public speaking. After going through college and getting by, I’m
not as scared about public speaking, but I know that the adrenaline will be
rushing come Monday. I hate looking like an ass and I can just picture everyone
judging me as I’m up in front of the room. In fact, the thought of all 40 pairs
of eyes on me makes me break out in to a rash. But if I’m going to continue
working in my field, I better get over this fear.
The part I’m dreading about this trip is the flying. I.
HATE. FLYING. No, not hate. LOATHE. Seriously. I don’t know where this
irrational fear started because as a kid, I loved flying. It was a big
adventure, like a roller coaster. But flying post 9/11 became a death wish. It
wasn’t fun anymore and was downright terrifying. The actual flying part doesn’t
frighten m; it’s the take off that I can stand. There is something so amazing
about watching a plane take off, seeing its nose reach higher in to the sky
until it’s so far away that it seems like the sky has swallowed the plane. My
simple mind can’t comprehend the physics and engineering that makes flying
possible, and trust me, many engineers have tried explaining it to me. When I’m
sitting in that plane, looking out the window, watching the plane slightly
tilt, I just want to die. Literally. If someone could just knock me out right
before take off and then wake me up while we are in the air, I’d be happy. But
I don’t think flight crews are willing to do that.
Everyone tells me to relax, that flying is safer than
driving, that billions of planes take off every day and that crashes only
happen once in a blue moon. But my irrational mind can’t comprehend those
statistics.
Some other people I know who are scared of flying do certain
superstitious things before boarding, like knocking on the windows, tapping
their feet a certain amount of times, wearing lucky underwear. I wish I was
more superstitious, or that I had faith in the flight mechanics.
After telling my therapist about this strong fear, she
insisted that I stop trying to control my life. My destiny and my fate have
already been decided. The universe has its plans for me and there is nothing I
can do to stop it. Will I never fly on a plane because of my fear? Hell no. I’d
hate to be one of those people who refuse to go anywhere. Instead, I need to
come to grips with my own mortality and realize that in the end, we all die. We
can’t escape it, yet every day we continue on with our daily lives knowing that
the clock is ticking. Flying is no different.
All you can do is get on the plane, say a prayer, and hope
that everything goes well. I have so much more to offer this world, so much
more that I want to do in my life. I am not ready to go, but when is anyone
ready to go? I just need to relax and learn to let go. And maybe grab a couple
of cocktails while waiting in the airport lounge…
And, my therapist added that even if the plan were to crash,
I’d probably pass out before I felt any pain anyways. There’s a sick comfort in
knowing that.
